You Can't Make Me Tell You Anything
by LooneyLovey
Summary: Hermione Granger has a secret, one she has kept with her for five years. What happens when the Potions Professor has had enough of the puzzle she torments him with, and wants to know what's actually going on? Rating will change for later chapters. In the process of updating/revising 07/07/12.
1. The Puzzle

**I have roughly 15+ stories which I should update at the moment, I know this. But, I've read a few stories recently which I haven't clicked with as I did before and I knew that it was time to get back into writing again, and yes, that does mean a new story. I have the plots written out for about 5 of my other uncompleted HP stories and I will complete them soon hopefully, but it looks like I won't end up doing that until my Summer Holiday hits. So, without further ado, here is my new story.**

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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><p>Hermione Granger had a secret. Severus Snape knew that much; the shifting of her eyes whenever someone came a little too near to her; the defensive stance she normally adopted when not in the company of Potter and Weasley; and the twitchiness of her wand hand, all these things gave her away. But, what the Professor didn't know was <em>what <em>the secret was. For five years, he had suspected that there was something that the girl was hiding, something she was unwilling to share, and today, today he was going to find out. He was sick of this ... this puzzle she presented in front of him, a puzzle he so desperately wanted to solve, but could not – if only to ease the whirring of his mind.

So, he had resorted to baiting her. "Miss Granger," said he, folding his arms over his chest in a somewhat menacing manner. "Do you mean to tell me that for the first time since you have _graced _us with your presence, you have not done your work in a timely manner? Tut, tut. I really did expect better from you."

"You'll find the work has been done Professor," she said, pointing to the lone vial that lay upon his desk. "I sent it up with Harry and Ron while I cleaned our work stations. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to head off to Arithmancy. Good day, Professor."

The Professor in question stood dumbstruck, glued to the floor. Not once had she had the gall to talk back to him, and yet she had just done so, and then left. The cheek of the girl! But, before he could even contemplate chasing her down, and demanding an explanation for her sudden change in behaviour, a head popped around his classroom door.

"Ahh, Severus, I was hoping I'd find you here."

Where else were you going to find me you old coot, he muttered in the safety of his occluded mind.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Would you mind joining me for a cup of lemon tea?"

Since when had he acquired that flavour of tea the Professor wondered, while trying to think of an excuse to politely decline the invitation.

"Albus, I planned to grade my 1st year papers tonight-"

"Splendid. Shall we say my office, ten minutes?"

And with that, the Headmaster disappeared.

0o0o0o0

Hermione Granger was not happy. He _had _noticed something. She had spent the journey up to Arithmancy trying to convince herself to the contrary, but obviously, she should have been planning for the worst. Snape never called her back, never. And yet, he kept her behind to ask her about work she knew he'd seen Harry and Ron place upon his desk. It was all very ... puzzling.

Sidestepping into a hidden alcove, Hermione took a minute to compose herself. With a deep breath, she pushed up the sleeve of her jumper to reveal a myriad of scars disfiguring her arm.

"I can't afford to slip up again," she whispered to herself as she traced the scars. "I can't."

Slowly, she tugged her sleeve down her arm, and brushed an invisible piece of lint from her jumper. Squaring her shoulder, she headed off to Arithmancy.

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><p><strong>Review and make my day a little brighter? :)<strong> 


	2. The Black Lake

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**A/N: I'm going to shamelessly plug my new forum here, it's a HG/SS forum since there don't seem to be many about, it's only in its starting days so you'll have to bare with me. The link is on my main page if anyone is interested. :)**

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><p>0o0o0o0<p>

Begrudgingly, Severus Snape made his way up the revolving staircase, only to pause for a moment by the door. He could hear voices.

"I know, Fawkes, but my hands are tied. We both know that."

Fawkes' reply was a hauntingly beautiful melody the Professor had heard only once in his tenure at Hogwarts.

"_My God," Dumbledore exclaimed, looking down at the body in front of him. He didn't know how the man was alive after all he had sustained. From his spot on the floor where he had collapsed, Severus heard Fawkes trill out a melody so beautiful, had he been nearer to consciousness he would have cried at the sheer magnificence of it. _

Shaking the memories from his head, he focused once more on the Headmaster's tone. There was something in it which worried the Professor slightly. But it was no use dwelling on it now, and without further thought, he rapped lightly on the door in front of him, and pushed it open.

"Ahh Severus, on time I see."

"Yes, Albus. And I would be greatly appreciative if you could tell me exactly why I'm here."

"Can't a Headmaster invite his best Professor up for tea now and again, without having an ulterior motive?" At the Professor's sharp look, he continued, "Obviously not."

"Albus, I'm waiting."

As if by magic, the Headmaster seemed to age twenty years in front of Severus' eyes. Albus' shoulders sagged, his eyes no longer held that twinkle one associated with old coot, and his breathing became laboured.

"Albus?" There was a note of concern colouring the Professor's voice this time.

"For many years I have tried to deny something of a grave importance. Something, which I fear might be too late to rectify."

Hesitantly, the Professor made his way to the seat in front of the Headmaster's desk, ignoring the memories which threatened to overwhelm him.

"Five years ago, a young witch entered theses grounds. Now, you know of the protection wards which are cast every year to alert staff of emotional, mental, or physical abuse to students, both inside and outside of this castle?" At the Professor's nod, he continued, "They sounded. It pains me to say that with a new batch of students, it is not uncommon for this sort of thing to happen, especially for children from Muggleborn and Pureblood families. Usually, the wards do not sound again as the child becomes strong enough to withstand the abuse or alerts someone else to it, so it can then be dealt with. Usually that is, before I feel the need to interfere. In the past few years I have only dealt with a few cases personally."

The man sat in the chair did not like where this was going, he had a sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut, and, unfortunately, his gut was normally right.

"The witch, I'm afraid to say, that has continually - year after year, and holiday after holiday - activated these wards is Hermione Granger."

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Normally Hermione like Arithmancy, she would even go as far to say that it was one of her favourite subjects. But, not today. Not after here little tête-a-tête with Professor Snape. The only thing she wanted to do now was to curl up in her room, and find a way out of the mess she had made. If only she knew how.

"Miss Granger, are you listening?" a sharp voice interrupted her musings.

No, she wasn't, but she answered dutifully, "Yes Professor."

"Good, then you can tell me what this means." Professor Vector pointed to a set of numbers on the board.

Hermione had no idea what the numbers meant, she started to panic. Since when did she let her school work slip?

Heart beating fast she mumbled, "I ... I ... I have to go."

And with that, the class was silenced by shock as Hermione Granger gathered up her belongings, fumbled with the clasp of her satchel, and walked out of the classroom for the second time since she had begun her schooling at Hogwarts.

As she started to descend the staircase she heard a faint voice call out her name, but she didn't turn back, she couldn't. If she did, she would surely lose it and Hermione couldn't let that happen under any circumstance. So, she ran. She ran until her legs could carry her no further. It was only when she had caught her breath she recognised her surroundings, she was at the Black Lake. Slowing her pace, she made her way up to the edge of the lake, where the water was lapping at the shore. Watching the small ripples on the surface of the lake, she felt some semblance of calm return to her. And then, the anger took over.

"How could I have been so stupid!" she exclaimed, as she picked up a rock and threw it into the lake. Hermione watched as the ripples grew bigger and bigger until they eventually faded away into still water again. Had she been in the right frame of mind, she would have laughed at the juxtaposition of the calm water against the rage she felt, bubbling up insider of her, threatening to overspill.

"You're a Gryffindor; it's in your nature."

Without turning around, she replied, "Sod off, Malfoy. Find somewhere else to mope."

"Hey now, Granger. No need to be like that."

"What do you want?" she said, sighing in defeat. He wasn't going to leave, and she had no energy left to fight him.

Draco didn't know whether it was the slumping of her shoulders, or the defeated tone in her voice that led him to ask his next question.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

The lake rippled with a sudden breeze that shrouded them both in a silence that seemed too precious to break. But, Hermione had never been one to do the expected, and said, "I don't know anymore, Malfoy. I really don't."

Truthfully, he hadn't been excepting an answer - a hex, or a jinx, yes, not an actual, honest to God answer.

"Do you," he started, somewhat hesitantly, "do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione let out a bark of laughter, "Gods no." Draco sighed in relief, and at that, Hermione turned around. "What are you doing out here anyway Malfoy-"

"Draco."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"My name is Draco, not Malfoy. I'd appreciate it if you'd kindly remember that fact in the future."

Hermione stood, dumbstruck. Draco Malfoy actually wanted _her_ – a Mudblood – to call him by his first name. Had he been hit on the head or something? Without realising it, Hermione had voiced her last query aloud.

He chuckled, "Maybe at birth, but not recently, no."

"Oh..."

Silence settled upon them again, it wasn't one of those uncomfortable silences, but a silence which both Hermione and Draco revelled in. They both watched as a raven swooped down before them and perched on a nearby branch. Hermione had always liked ravens, she didn't know why exactly, but whenever she stayed at home, there had always been one perched upon the branch outside of her window. It was a sort of comfort for her, to know that there was something consistent in her life, even it was as little as a raven. Thinking of home made the rage inside of her start to bubble up again, and as if sensing her unease, Draco broke their self imposed silence, "And, to answer your question, I felt like a walk." He wouldn't mention the fact that he had saw her running like a madwoman down to the Black Lake, and his insatiable curiosity compelled him to follow.

"You expect me to believe you?" she asked, after a moment of contemplation.

"No."

"Good, because I don't." Draco smirked at her declaration.

They lapsed into silence once more, and this time Draco took the time to study Hermione. She had changed over the summer, of that much he was certain. Her hair had been tamed so it fell in soft ringlets, framing her oval face. The skin under her eyes had darkened, and her eyes held untold stories he knew she would never share. Her clothes no longer hugged her body as they did when she first arrived at Hogwarts; instead, they hung limply from her lanky frame. As she reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face which had come loose in the wind, Draco observed the fragility of her hand, and how it shook when unsupported by her body. Hermione Granger was hiding something.

"Dinner will be served soon." It was Hermione who broke the silence this time.

"I know."

"Hadn't you better get going then?"

"Only if you are," he stated, smirking at the indignant look upon her face.

"Since when did you start taking an interest in my welfare, Malfoy?"

"Since you started looking like, _that_," he said, purposefully taking his time while looking her up and down.

A blush graced her cheeks. Hermione knew she hadn't been taking care of herself these past few weeks, but she hadn't thought it had become _that _noticeable.

"Goodbye Malfoy," she said, turning away from him.

For the second time that day, Hermione Granger walked away from someone, and for the second time that day, someone called back to her.

"It's Draco, Hermione, not Malfoy."

0o0o0o0

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><p><strong>Anyone got any ideas what Malfoy is up to? <strong>

**Review and let me know what you think. :) **

**Looney. **


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